


Seared Frame of Heart

by jesterlady



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Relationships, Episode: s01e13 Epitaph One, Episode: s02e13 Epitaph Two: Return, Epitaph Verse, F/M, One Shot, Resolution, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Epitaph One, Paul and Echo are holed up and he's finally going to find out why she holds him at arm's length</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seared Frame of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I thought that Echo seemed really eager for a relationship with Paul. Then the end happened really quickly and in Epitaph Two, it was switched and she wouldn't let him in. I figured there was a reasoning behind it.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Dollhouse. The title is by John Bunyan

He follows her. Sometimes, he's not sure why. But it's what he does, it's who he is, and identity is much too precious a thing to throw away. He's already a Doll, he's already ruined. It happened before the world ended and butchers crowded the streets with their hot red flashes of rage and lack of control. So, he doesn't really mind the fact that his identity of being her lap dog might be a lie. It's just who he is now.

He wants to fight. He hates the people who caused all this to happen, just like he always has. He's a white knight on a shining horse, flashing an FBI badge, and he's going to bring down the Dollhouse. That's his mantra, but it doesn't ring as true anymore. There is no more FBI, his horse is his own two world-weary feet, and he's not so much a knight. That's her job.

The one thing he can't quite figure out is how he loves her and he knows she loves him, but they are never quite in the same place at the same time. He doesn't know why. He can remember her begging for him to let her in so many years ago before they came back to the Dollhouse. But he can't feel why he wouldn't have when intellectually he knows he probably wanted to. He remembers dying and everything being so confusing and him dealing with being a Doll and her being slightly less important than she used to be. He remembers being muddled about Mellie and grieving this non-entity's death and Echo standing aside to let him do that.

It's all a blur and a non-issue at this point because when walking too close to an old appliance store can wipe your whole self out of your body, you tend not to worry about why you didn't fall in love ten years ago. Bullets are a constant fear and blood too familiar a smell. She's his leader and he follows her and if sometimes there is comfort in each other's bodies, late at night when they don't have to look at each other, well, that's part of war too.

But he's determined to keep that one part of himself that is good, that is himself, that won't let him become overwhelmed by despair. So he builds up his love for her and he keeps the door cracked and holds up against the onslaught of her barriers. It's what he does.

Till one day he can't stand it anymore and he's bleeding from the thigh and her left arm is a bloody mess and they're finally holed up in a basement and expecting to have some quiet to stitch up their wounds for at least a few hours. 

“Some reason you won't let me in?” he asks bluntly. 

She who faces rooms full of people with guns flinches.

“Not now, Ballard,” she says, using a preciously harbored match to sterilize a needle she keeps in her pocket for just this purpose.

“Then when? We don't exactly have hours of free, safe time on our hands.”

“Then why bother?” she evades.

“Just because we live in a post-apocalyptic world doesn't mean we forget what we want and who we are.”

“In this particular post-apocalyptic world it kinda does,” she rejoins, thrusting the needle into his leg. 

He's used to it and barely notices.

“There's another reason,” he says. “I know you better than anyone else on this planet. All a hundred of you. And there's some particular reason why I, in particular, am not wanted by you.”

“Nobody can know me,” she says.

“Probably not, but somebody can try.”

“It's no use,” she says, jabbing the needle again. “What's the point? I've got more important things to worry about than if your heart and mine wanna hold hands.”

“More important maybe, but as necessary, I don't know.”

“Stop trying to be deep.”

“There's nothing deep about it. This is basic human instinct, Echo.”

“I'm slightly more than human over here.”

“Don't use Alpha's words. You're not him, he's not you, you're not more than the world. We could all be you if we let ourselves.”

“Fine, but I do it so you don't have to. Now shut up and take care of my arm.”

“Not until you tell me why,” he says, but takes the needle and thread from her anyway.

“It's none of your business.”

“Kinda is.”

“No one gave you license to start digging around in my mind,” she says, wincing as he peels her shirt off.

“I thought it was open season in there,” he says.

“Low blow, Ballard.”

“That's all you give me.”

“Just drop it.”

“No. I can't do this anymore. I need to know why or I'm going back to Safehaven and you can do this merry dance of death all by yourself.”

She stares at him. 

“I need you,” she finally says quietly.

“Apparently, you don't.”

“I need your help,” she says sharply.

“Then let me help you.”

“That wasn't what I meant.”

“I know.”

She sighs and looks down at her hands. 

“It's complicated.”

“It always is.”

“Stop trying to be all understanding.”

“Stop trying to evade the point. I'm not moving until you tell me.”

“I don't want to tell you.”

“Tough.”

“No.”

“Just tell me why!”

“Just leave it.”

“Tell me!”

“Because you left me!” she shouts. 

He just looks at her.

“What?”

“I wanted you. I wanted an us. But you died and then Topher took me out of you. You don't really want me anymore. It's just a habit.”

“I...I don't...”

“When he made you a Doll, he had to take something big out of one area of your brain and remake the part that was damaged. He took our connection.”

“I felt confused after, I felt burdened with having their crap in my head. Then there was the whole fight and Mellie-"

“I was gone from you and I couldn't depend on you anymore. So I learned to depend on myself and, let's face it, there's a lot of me to depend on.”

“That wasn't my fault, you know. It's not like I wasn't still there. It wasn't like I actually left you.”

“You died,” she says in a smaller voice than he's ever heard before. “Alpha killed you because of me. Then he put you in himself. I live such a life of ridiculous violence that you could truly die again and I don't want that.”

“You have such a hero complex,” he says, almost laughing. “You know that, right? It's not your choice to decide what's best for me. I fight because I need to. I'm strong, I'm smart, I'm good. That's all I need. I don't need a protector, I need a partner. So do you.”

“I don't want you to get hurt.”

“So my leg bleeding all over the place a few minutes ago didn't count?”

“I meant personal vendetta type hurt.”

“Everybody knows how you feel even if you don't. That's not going to change. Alpha killed me and we weren't together then either.”

“You are still...different.”

“Look at me.” She does. “For someone who has genius brains you are an idiot. That was ten years ago. I've gotten over it and have had plenty of time to build new connections to you.”

“I know that.”

“Someone in there must realize that holding yourself away from that thing called love and the world is a seriously bad idea.”

“Several of us have very definite opinions about it,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“You're too strong for your own good,” he says, finally returning to her wound. “It might be better for someone else in there to be in control for a day.”

“You want Terrance out for a stroll?”

“Someone else,” he says.

“Caroline likes to make her opinions known.”

“Don't get me wrong, Caroline's who I fell for in the first place, but I love Echo, not Caroline. I know it didn't always seem that way, but I love you now.”

She turns away from him.

“Don't.”

“Don't say the 'L word?' If you're strong enough to take bullets to the chest, you're strong enough to be an adult with real feelings.”

“I already told you.”

“Just promise me you'll think about letting go of some of those absurd notions of yours. Give me a chance. Let me help you and you help me.”

“You sound like a life actualization coach. I know cause I am one.”

“Don't let that one be in control for a day.”

She smiles. 

“Okay, Ballard. Let's see how it goes.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, or did you wanna argue about it for a few hours, get distracted, and have somebody find our mutilated corpses a few weeks from now cause you wanted to look a frikking gift horse in the mouth?”

“That's a good thing to do, remember what the gift horse was.”

“Shut up and kiss me and don't make me regret this.”

He shuts up, he kisses her, and he doesn't regret it. He can tell she doesn't either. For some reason he feels whole again. But since he doesn't want to delve too much deeper into his life coach potential, he doesn't analyze it any further than that. All he needs to know is that this is finally happening.


End file.
